


New Beginnings

by NotAGhost3



Series: The Belonging You Seek [1]
Category: Le Fantôme de l'Opéra | Phantom of the Opera & Related Fandoms, Le Fantôme de l'Opéra | Phantom of the Opera - Gaston Leroux
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Awkward Flirting, Broken Engagement, F/M, First Meetings, Grouchy Christine, Mention of past Raoul/Christine, Modern AU, Romance, Slow Dancing, Wedding, delirium kisses au, new relationships, slight angst, the belonging you seek series, valentines day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-09
Updated: 2020-04-09
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:20:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23564434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NotAGhost3/pseuds/NotAGhost3
Summary: "Meg, are you sure you want to get married on Valentine's Day?""Of course I'm sure— is there something wrong with that?""What? No, no, of course not. It's a great day, very…romantic…""Good! Because I want you to be my maid of honor, Chrissy!"That phone conversation had been six months ago. Six months, fours days and seven hours to be exact, and now she couldn't help but recall it as she stood beside the altar in a soft pink taffeta dress watching her best-est friend in the whole wide world get married—To her ex-boyfriend.Well, to be exact, her ex-fiancé.Wasn't the world just…peachy?
Relationships: Christine Daaé/Erik | Phantom of the Opera, Raoul de Chagny & Meg Giry
Series: The Belonging You Seek [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1696057
Comments: 5
Kudos: 64





	New Beginnings

**Author's Note:**

> Part 1 of the series I have a few Modern AU E/C one-shots written in, hopefully will add some new ones after the ones from FFN have all been posted on here!

"Meg, are you sure you want to get married on _Valentine's_ Day?"

_"Of course I'm sure— is there something wrong with that?"_

"What? No, no, of course not. It's a great day, very…romantic…"

_"Good! Because I want you to be my maid of honor, Chrissy!"_

That phone conversation had been six months ago. Six months, fours days and seven hours to be exact, and now she couldn't help but recall it as she stood beside the altar in a soft pink taffeta dress watching her best-est friend in the whole wide world get married—

To _her_ ex-boyfriend.

Well, to be exact, her ex-fiancé.

Wasn't the world just… _peachy?_

Christine sighed and shifted the two bouquets of red roses that she held in her hands, one for herself and a much larger one that belonged to Meg. The service was dragging on _forever_ …she just wanted to get out of this church as fast as she could.

She could feel _his_ family's eyes on her. Feel them judging her when they should be watching a perfectly nice wedding. She wasn't sure she could stand being ogled at much longer—

She blinked and turned her head back to the happy couple taking their vows.

"Do you, Raoul Devon Chagny, take this woman to have and to hold…in sickness and in health…."

Christine struggled against the urge to roll her eyes. Why did nice, kind, sweet Meg have to marry Raoul? _Raoul_ — of all people! It was as if Meg had never heard of the girl-code in her life. She didn't go around dating Meg's ex-boyfriends. They were off-limits, out-of-bounds…they had even both mutually agreed that they hated Raoul!

Yet, here she stood…at Meg and Raoul's _wedding_ ….

With a shaky breath she looked down at the flowers in her hand again, doing her best to drown their voices out.

She could still hear them.

She raised her head and glanced towards the other side of the altar where the groomsmen stood. Six handsomely dressed men: the first being Raoul's actual brother, then four of them were a mix of Raoul's fraternity brothers, and the last one—

_Hmm…_

Someone she didn't recognize. He stood a foot or two away from the other groomsmen and his stance made Christine think that he was ready to bolt when the first opportunity presented itself. Tall and lanky…dark hair…and something was just _slightly_ off about his face—

_Oh don't be ridiculous, Christine, it's just the lighting._

But still, she was curious. She allowed herself to stare, happy to have something to take her mind off of what was happening at the altar between them. The man's long fingers were clasped tightly in front of him, a little too tightly…he looked almost nervous to be standing there. Her eyes drifted from his hands to the red rose pinned to his lapel, and then back to his face. Maybe he had tried using foundation and it was just a shade too dark? Or maybe it was the harsh shadows that he stood in that made his skin look…well…she couldn't quite place it. His cheekbones were high, and his nose wasn't too big, just slightly hooked, and his eyes were—

Christine sucked in a quick breath of air.

A pair of light amber eyes bore into her own as she locked stares with him.

She'd been caught.

She offered him a quick half-smile and then turned her attention back to the flowers, blushing.

 _Heavily blushing_.

She needed this wedding to be over _now_.

* * *

Driving beats coming from the wedding DJ's booth pounded through the speakers. The wedding party had moved outside to a large white tent with false walls and clear plastic "windows" on all four sides. However, the tent walls didn't do much to keep out the damp, foggy air outside. Thankfully it wasn't too cold, but it was still February.

Christine flinched as the flash from the wedding photographer's camera blinded her. She winced and looked over from her spot at the table by the makeshift bar in the corner of the tent.

"Give me a big smile, honey!" the cheery voice of the photographer said, glancing over his camera at Christine. She gave a half smile and lifted her half empty glass at the same time towards the camera. Satisfied, the photographer gave her a thumbs up and continued on.

She wasn't sure how much more of this wedding she could take.

Thankfully she had already muddled through her awkward maid of honor speech and the group photos, but she was still obligated to stay until the end of the reception. She swirled her wine around in her glass, watching it slosh up against the sides before taking a few gulps, finishing it off.

_Well, there goes the third glass—_

"Do you have any cognac on hand?"

"No sir, sorry about that—"

"Fine, just give me something then…something _strong_."

Christine looked over her shoulder to see who dared join her pity party at the table in the back corner—

She froze.

It was _him_. The guy with the weird foundation lines!

"It's you!" Christine gasped, turning around in her chair.

The man paused and then looked her direction.

"I'm sorry…what?"

Christine shook her head. "Sorry, I just….well, I don't know why…um, you're one of the groomsmen, right?"

He leaned an elbow against the bar. "Unfortunately….and you're the maid of honor. Your point is?"

Christine shrugged and set her glass on the table instead of answering.

What _was_ her point?

"Thanks," the man grumbled as he took his drink from the bartender and then slipped into the seat next to Christine.

Christine's eyes shot over to him.

"You'll have to forgive me, I'm new to this whole socializing thing," he said. He then took a swig of his amber colored drink before his lips pursed. "Disgusting…rich as _they_ are, you'd think they'd at least have decent drinks…" he pushed his drink away and then leaned back in his chair.

"You don't like them either?" Christine almost whispered, leaning closer to him in an attempt for no one else to hear her confession.

"Yes, the drinks are quite nasty. So I guess I should agree; I don't like them either," he cocked his head to the side but didn't meet her gaze, "and the Chagny's are most certainly not my favorite people if that's what you mean. Megan could have done so much better…but of course I'm sure your opinion is a bit different as the ex-fianceé…"

"How did you know that?" Christine demanded quickly, pulling back away from him a bit.

It was his turn to shrug. "I feel the more appropriate question is who _doesn't_ know about it. I mean think of the scandal that went along with it. ' _The governor's son's wedding plans in shambles'…_ I believe that and your photo was plastered on the cover of every magazine, newspaper, and web article at the time."

She glared at him as he smirked.

"Well, that was three years ago, who even cares now?" Christine flicked the side of her empty glass, too embarrassed to defend her case anymore than that.

Surprisingly, the man beside her had no remark. Instead, he took another drink, draining the glass. Christine couldn't help but stare at him, odd as he was.

"It's terrible, but it'll do—"

"How do you know Meg? I don't remember seeing you at any of the bridal parties and you weren't in the photos earlier," Christine asked, cutting him off.

He finally looked over at her, amber eyes meeting blue.

Christine couldn't help but feel trapped, just as she had felt earlier.

"Old family friend."

"You don't look old to me."

"Well, I wouldn't exactly call myself young…"

Christine leaned her chin on top of her fists. "You can't be that old…probably what? Thirty? Thirty-five at most?"

She could see his lips turn up a bit at the edges. "I don't think it's polite to be asking a person's age when you don't even know their name."

Christine clicked her tongue. "Okay then…so what's your name?"

"Erik."

"Erik? That's it? That's all I'm getting?"

He shrugged again, running his finger around the rim of his glass. "For privacy sake…yes." He met her gaze, holding her there captive. "I would ask you yours but I'm afraid the press has ruined that surprise for me."

Christine had resorted back to staring at him. He was strange, that was for sure. Rude, pressing, and an alcohol snob apparently. Not exactly the kind of company she intended to keep, but he was entertaining for the moment. It wasn't as if anyone else was going to leave the dance party in the middle of the floor to pay any mind to her. Why not enjoy the company while it lasted?

"So, Christine, if you don't mind me calling you that— what's our escape plan?" Erik's voice pulled her out of her musings.

She blinked.

"What?"

"I said," he said slowly, as if talking to a child, "what's our escape plan? I think it's obvious that you don't want to be here anymore than I do."

Christine shook her head with a slight laugh. "No…no it's not that. I'm happy for Meg- really! It's just awkward with _his_ family here…but I'm fine!"

"Hmm…" Erik nodded, his tone a bit skeptical. "Drowning yourself in alcohol is really proving that point too."

Christine opened her mouth to retaliate but he kept talking.

"I get it, I'm not the best with people either. If I had it my way I wouldn't be here at all, but," he held his hands up, "here I am…"

Christine held her mouth shut for a few moments longer as the DJ changed songs to a more slower one. Some acoustic ballad from some alternative singer.

"Sickening isn't it how everyone can be so happy when people like you and me are stuck over here washing away our nerves and sorrow? I mean look over there- I haven't seen Annie dance like that in years!" Erik said, looking over at the dancers.

Christine followed his gaze. He was right. They all seemed _so happy_. Meg was practically glowing wrapped up in Raoul's arms as they swept across the dance floor, and Meg's mom was slow dancing with one of Raoul's frat brothers. She was usually so uptight but now she looked so graceful and carefree.

"I don't know, it's not that bad…it does look like they're having fun…"

She could feel his eyes on her.

"Are you saying you'd like to dance?" his velvet voice said. He was quieter in his accusation this time, a gentle shock to his tone.

She paused and then shook her head. "No, not really. It's just interesting to see how people are different on the dance floor—"

Before she knew what was happening he had taken her hand in his and was gently pulling on it. "I'm not much of a dancer, but I think we could both use some cheering up."

Christine looked up at him as he stood, her hand still in his. "I thought you said you weren't a people person?"

"True, attention isn't my favorite…I don't think it's yours either, but you said it yourself. It can't be that bad. We can be uncomfortable together."

Something in his voice had changed, something in his eyes had softened, and those small changes made Christine trust him just enough to follow him.

"Okay," she said hesitantly as she stood up before he led her to the dance floor.

They stood on the very edge of the floor that had been laid down.

"I…I think I put my hand on your waist, but it's not at all proper," Erik mumbled, shy now that they were mingling.

Christine gave a nervous laugh. "I don't think being the maid of honor at your ex-fiancé's wedding is proper either but, to quote you… _here I am_."

Erik nodded and slowly placed his hands around her waist, his hands just barely touching her as she gently placed her hands on his shoulders.

"It's a good thing I'm in heels or else I don't think I'd be able to reach your shoulders," Christine joked, a smile gracing her lips.

Erik's lips turned up just slightly before he began to step back, taking Christine with him. They swayed in place to the music, not moving around like the other dancers did. Christine kept looking at down at her feet, unsure of what to really do. She had never truly slow danced with anyone, especially not with a perfect stranger!

Her life seemed like some kind of a knock-off Hallmark movie.

Except her leading man wasn't exactly a romantic interest, not to mention his strange makeup lines. Slowly she reached up to stroke his cheek to see if she could secretly blend it into his skin but Erik's hand snatched her wrist as soon as she got close to his face.

"What do you think you're doing?" Erik hissed in her ear, lowering her hand back to his shoulder.

"I…I…" she was at a loss for words. He hadn't hurt her, but she was a bit caught-off guard. "I was trying to blend in your makeup lines…" she confessed, blushing.

"Trying to…trying to blend in my makeup lines?"

She nodded.

And then he laughed.

Not a loud, ridiculing laugh, but a deep, short laugh as if he truly thought what she said had been funny.

To say she was confused would be an understatement.

"As sweet as your intentions were, I must advise you to never try to help me with my… _facial makeup_ again. Is that perfectly clear?" His words melted back into a warning, his eyes searing into hers.

"I'm sorry," she apologized, taking a step away from him. "It was rude of me anyway."

Erik shrugged. "No, it was me. Same old same old…" he said to himself under his breath. "I'm afraid I must go...I'll leave you be now," he whispered before taking her left hand and bringing it to his lips to kiss. "Thank you for the dance…even though we were both a poor excuse of a partner."

With that he walked away, becoming just another face in the crowd of party goers. Christine stood there as the song switched again, this time another up-beat tune.

"Erik wait—"

"Chrissy! There you are! So glad you decided to join the party— come dance with us!" Meg chirped behind her ear. Christine whirled around only to be met with the smiling face of her best friend. She gave a half smile and reluctantly followed Meg closer to the middle of the floor where the real dance party was happening.

But her thoughts were consumed with nothing but the know-it-all stranger with the uneven makeup lines that had made her insides do a somersault when he talked.

Little did she know that Erik's thoughts mirrored her own as he drove away from the wedding reception, only regretting that he hadn't the courage to give her the phone number stuffed in his pocket.


End file.
